Chapter Ten

Orders

Lara

Phillipe waited on the bench outside

the stables, his dappled gray saddled and ready to go. “Shall I

keep a discreet distance?” he asked as Lara stopped by him. “Or

would you like a ride?”

“I’ll walk, thank you. But

you needn’t keep your distance. Your company would be

welcome.”

“I’m glad somebody thinks

so.” He led his horse alongside her. “Talon was in no mood for it

this morning.”

Lara gave Phillipe a sideways glance

as they walked through the gate and onto the road. “Was Tal… the

captain angry when he left this morning?” she asked, dreading his

answer, yet needing to know.

“The man was in about as

foul a temper as I’ve ever seen him.”

Lara’s heart sank. The expression on

her face must have as well, because Phillipe reached out and laid a

brotherly hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe if you told me what

happened?”

A vision of her naked body pressed up

against the captain caused Lara’s cheeks to flush and Phillipe to

stare at her with raised brows. She shook her head as if she could

shake the shameful vision out and tried to remember what had passed

between them before. “I, ah, I asked him about the wildcat that has

cursed him.”

Phillipe raised his brow. “What did he

say?”

“That I should ask one of

my west-end witch cronies.” She eyed Phillipe. “What if I asked

you?”

He pressed his lips together and shook

his head. “I cannot. I’ve been sworn to silence upon pain of death

or dismemberment.”

Lara chuffed. She and Phillipe both

knew the threat would never be carried out. He was the captain’s

oldest and closest friend. “So which witch should I

ask?”

“Ask any one of them, I

would imagine they all know.”

Lara didn’t understand. Why was the

identity of this wildcat a secret only to her? Did the captain not

trust her to keep her tongue if asked? Hadn’t she been keeping her

tongue all this time the people of the valley had been calling her

his whore? She glanced at Phillipe, whom the captain had ordered to

keep watch over her while he was gone because he didn’t trust her

not to run away, which meant he didn’t trust her to keep her word.

She kicked a pebble with the toe of her sandal and sent it skidding

across the road.

“I wouldn’t worry over

much about Talon,” Phillipe said. “Whatever happened between you,

he’ll come around. The man is a great horseman and captain of men,

but he knows nothing of women.”

Lara let out an unladylike snort. “I

find that hard to believe.” She’d seen the way Ravenna and other

women in the valley looked at the captain. The way they looked

talking about him as they paid her good coin for vials of love

potion. All he had to do was drink one of their offerings, and he’d

be offered anything he wanted from any one of them.

“I’m not saying he hasn’t

known his share of women,” Phillipe continued, and her cheeks

flushed hotter. “Only that he doesn’t really know women.”

Lara swiped at her cheeks and eyed

Phillipe. “But you do.” It was more statement than

question.

“I am the middle child of

seven,” he told her. “With a brother and two sisters born before

and after me, and a mother, God rest her sainted soul, who ruled us

all, including my father, with a velvet fist.” He smiled, a little

sad and wistful. “Aye, lady, I know women better than most

men.”

“And the

captain?”

“Is the second of five

brothers, who watched his mother die in childbirth when he was a

stripling lad of eight years. And who, at the age of twelve, was

sent by his still-grieving father to the church to become a

priest.”

Lara felt keenly for the boy the

captain had been. She may never have known her mother, but she had

Sophie. “Does he remember his mother well?”

“He keeps the memory of

her close. Yet when he speaks of her, he speaks of her smile. Like

the sun beaming down on him. He says no other woman has ever smiled

at him like that, only a young girl in side braids with a sprinkle

of freckles across her nose.”

“He doesn’t speak of her

often, then?”

“His mother? Or the

girl?”

Lara gave Phillipe a look from beneath

leveled brows, which made him laugh.

“My sister, Evangeline,

could give that very same look,” he said. “And no, the captain

doesn’t speak of the girl or his mother often, rarely, in

fact.”

“I never knew my mother,”

Lara told him. “I think it would be much harder to have known her

and then to lose her at such a tender age.”

“My mother passed three

years ago.” Phillipe turned to a more somber tone. “When I was a

man fully grown and out of my family home over twelve years, and it

near did me in. Talon was a good friend to me through those dark

days.”

“I’m sure he was.” If Lara

had learned anything about the captain, it was how solid and

steadfast he was, stubbornly, maddeningly so at times. She’d also

learned more about the captain’s past in the last quarter league

than she had in the last thirty days, so as long as Phillipe

answered her questions, she would keep asking them. “How long was

the captain in the monastery?”

“Four years,” Phillipe

said, and Lara’s jaw dropped. “I know.” Phillipe laughed. “Can you

think of a least likely match between church and man?”

“Actually, I was thinking

he likely spoke Latin better than I.” She recalled the things she

and Sophie had spoken of in Latin in front of him, of their plan

for her escape from the bathing chamber. And then her thoughts went

to last night, how she’d pressed her naked body against his when

she should have pulled away. As he did.

Phillipe gave her shoulder a brotherly

squeeze. “I don’t know what happened between you two last night,

but I do know a smile of welcome from you when Talon returns, and

he’ll forgive you anything.”

Lara shook her head. “He was angry

when he left.”

“He’ll have three days to

cool off.” Phillipe wanted to make her feel better, she was sure,

yet his choice of words caused her body to flush from head to toes

at the tactile memory of the captain’s hard heat against her skin.

She almost tripped over nothing, and Phillipe grinned at her in a

way that wasn’t helping her recover her step or her composure,

though he did have the good graces to remain silent until she could

meet his gaze again. “I was thinking,” he said when she did. “Since

I’m to be your guardian shadow these next few days, how would you

like to learn to play Shah?”

“I’d like it very much.”

The game had interested her greatly the night he and the captain

had played in their chamber.

“Tonight then, after

supper. But for today, where am I to shadow you from?”

“You really don’t have to,

you know. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

Phillipe wagged a finger at her. “But I would know. And if anything

happened to you, the captain would have my boll… head.”

It was useless to argue. The captain,

who obviously thought her too troublesome to behave herself, had

given his orders. “Since it’s well into the afternoon already, you

may shadow me at my home. At what was once my private

home.”

“I do

apologize.”

Lara laughed. She’d always liked

Phillipe, as little as she knew him, and the more she knew him, the

more she liked him. She eyed him with mock severity. “We’ll see if

Sophie even lets you in the door.”

Sophie not only let Phillipe in, but

after an afternoon of showing him around their property, she sent

him back to the keep with half a peach pie.

“Sustenance for Lara’s

Shah lesson tonight.” She grinned, and it earned a wink of his blue

eyes and a kiss on her weathered cheek.

The lesson went long into the night as

the game was complicated, but Phillipe was a good teacher and, he

said, Lara a quick learner. By the time the pie was eaten and

Phillipe said his good nights, the moon was high in the midnight

sky. Yawning, Lara gazed longingly at the captain’s bed, which was

so much larger and softer than her little cot. She circled it like

an unsprung trap, edging closer each pass until she picked up his

pillow and held it to her nose, breathing in the mingled scents of

sandalwood and rose, then tossed it onto the bed and plopped down

on her cot.

She dreamed of black and white knights

carved of stone and bone, chasing a woman of wood across a

checkered board. Then Lara was the woman, a woman of flesh and

blood, standing naked in the middle of a river with a knife in each

hand as a huge, black warhorse with ivory-boned tusks charged her.

A gloved hand grabbed her by the arm, jerking her off her feet and

pressing her to the hard breadth of a man’s armored chest, the

metal so cold it burned her skin.

She woke with a start, her heart

beating through her ribs. The first gray steaks of dawn lit the sky

through the open window, and Lara rose from her cot. She’d never

get back to sleep.

Phillipe waited for her outside the

stables after breakfast, and they walked to her house with Phillipe

leading his horse as they had yesterday. Sophie took advantage of

his presence and set them to thatching holes in the barn’s roof. It

was hard, hot, dusty work, but with Phillipe’s help and company,

the time passed quickly. And it kept Lara from constantly worrying

about the captain and all that had happened between them the night

before he’d left on his hunting trip.

After supper at the keep, Phillipe

walked Lara up to her and the captain’s chamber. They drank wine

and played Shah, and she managed to capture one of his black

knights before he took her white queen and king.

“Tomorrow night, then?”

Phillipe asked now they were done and he prepared to leave. “I’ll

give you a chance to capture both my knights.”

“The captain will be

back,” Lara reminded him.

“He can play winner next

time.” Phillipe threw her a wink and a grin.

Lara grinned back, looking forward to

it. Shah was a game of strategy and constant planning; she could

see why the captain liked it. If she’d learned anything about him,

it was that he seldom did anything without a plan. “I’ll bake

pies,” she told Phillipe. “Strawberry for the captain and peach for

you.”

She may not have known what she was

going to say to the captain when he returned, but she could bake

him his favorite pie. Sweeten his ear.

***

Lara marked the measuring string

around Patience’s belly and studied her friend’s face, noting the

deepening hollows of her freckled cheeks and the dark circles under

her eyes. “The babe is growing bigger whilst you are growing

thinner.”

“I did the same with

Wyatt.”

“No, you weren’t this thin

with Wyatt. Nor this tired.”

“I didn’t have a

three-year-old to chase after then.” Patience smiled indulgently as

her son burst into the house from his father’s workshop. Willem and

Phillipe had gone there to discuss Phillipe’s order for a saddle

with stirrups like the one Willem was making for the

captain.

“Papa said… Papa said

bwing him and Phiwip dwink, pease.” Each freckle on the lad’s

cheeks mirrored his mother’s, only somehow more chaotic as he

jumped in place. Lara beamed down at her godson.

“Tell Papa we’ll be right

out with their drinks, thank you,” Patience told Wyatt, who turned

a full circle and ran back out of the house.

Wolf looked up at Lara, tongue lolling

and tail wagging.

“Go.” She waved him off,

and the hound loped after Wyatt. Patience started to push herself

up off her stool. “You sit,” Lara ordered. “I’ll get the mead.” She

filled two cups from the pitcher on the kitchen table and set them

down on the small table beside Patience. “There’s something I want

to ask you.”

“Ask.” Patience offered a

quizzical brow. In all the years they’d known each other, they’d

rarely couched their questions. But that was part of Lara’s

problem: she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Lara?”

“Do, ah, do you know who

the captain’s wildcat is?”

Patience’s brows arched.

“Aye.”

“Is it… It isn’t Ravenna,

is it?”

“Ravenna?” Patience said

with a laugh. “No, it isn’t.”

“Oh.” Lara let her breath

out in a rush. “Good.”

“What made you think it’s

Ravenna?”

“She bought three vials of

love potion from Sophie and made sure to tell her all three were

meant for the captain.”

Patience flicked her hand

dismissively. “From what I know of the captain, he’d rather drink

the Black’s piss than a love potion from Ravenna.”

Lara dropped her jaw. “I can’t believe

you said that.”

Patience shrugged. “It’s the

truth.”

She eyed Lara and laughed again,

making Lara feel like a fool. She was acting like one too, not just

up and asking Patience who the wildcat was. Yet she was suddenly

skittish of hearing the answer. Maybe she was better off not

knowing. Besides, it really wasn’t her business. The captain and

his troop would be leaving the valley sooner or later, and she

would be staying here, unless she hadn’t paid off her debt and he

took her with him, in which case she should’ve been happy to sell

Ravenna a dozen vials of love potion, triple strength.

“Mama, Mama, Mama.” Wyatt

ran back in waving his arms in wild circles. “Capin’s here, Capin’s

here, an he bring Papa a buck wif big aners an Granmama peasants to

cook.”

“Peasants?” Patience

looked from Wyatt to Lara, who peered out the window to see the

captain’s two geldings tied to the post, one packing a buck and a

brace of birds.

“Pheasants,” she told

Patience, who shook her head with a giggle.

The captain stood with his back to the

house as Willem and Phillipe hoisted the buck from his horse and

laid it on the ground. He wore a vest of sleeveless leather over

his bare, tanned arms, and breeches that hugged his well-muscled

thighs, the length of which Lara could still feel pressed against

hers. Wyatt ran out of the house with Wolf on his heels, and the

captain turned and grinned at the lad and the hound, his teeth

white against the black of his beard. He looked wild and untamed: a

true hunter. He glanced over at the window Lara watched from, and

she sucked her belly in as he had his when she’d leaned in to him

and felt his hard heat against her nakedness.

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